Just Another Day
by racefh853629
Summary: "So, we don't know who got taken, we don't know who took him, and we don't know what they're driving," Martin recapped. "Should be fun," Danny said.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own Without A Trace, CBS, or any other known entity. This was a story that came to me as I was watching the show, and it is split into two parts. It's my first attempt at a Without a Trace story, so please be kind. I hope you all enjoy this part, and please review!

* * *

Just Another Day

Martin shifted his position as he shrugged off his suit jacket. The warmth of the sunshine was enough for him to feel like he didn't need his jacket as he stood in front of the office windows, looking out across the city. _New York always looks a lot nicer from up on the twelfth floor,_ he thought to himself as he picked at the buttons on his cuffs.

"We've got an abduction," Danny said as he walked up, heading over to the whiteboard.

"Who?" Martin asked, turning away from the windows.

"No one got a clear look at the guy's face. Best we got is a grainy surveillance video that shows someone coming up to our guy and dragging him into a van."

"That's the best shot they have?" Sam asked as she looked at the photo Danny tacked up on the board.

"Lucy's trying to pull something out of it, but she says it might take her some time," Danny said.

"Where did this happen?"

"A parking garage. 38th and Broadway."

"Any shots of the abductor?" Martin asked.

"Not sure if we have a clear shot of him," Danny said. "Lucy's working through the footage, but we may not have anything."

"Should we head out to the scene?" Sam asked.

"Jack and Viv are already there, talking to witnesses. Elena's helping to track down any other security footage in the area. Jack wants us to run down any cars who leave the garage in the timeframe of our abduction."

"Can we even get any license plates to run down?"

"Lucy's very busy."

"So, we don't know who got taken, we don't know who took him, and we don't know what they're driving," Martin recapped.

"Should be fun," Danny said.

* * *

It was cold.

Either somebody cranked up the air conditioning, or maybe the sun finally disappeared behind the clouds, as the showers they forecasted crept across the city. That was the least of his worries, though, as Martin struggled to put his jacket back on. He was trembling so hard that it became incredibly difficult for him to get his jacket on.

Why was it so cold?

"Where are we?" Jack asked as he made his way in.

"Lucy's still working on clearing up the face, but we did notice one thing about our victim," Danny replied as he walked back from Lucy's office. He put a picture up on the board and pointed at their victim's hip. "He was packing."

"Who abducts an armed man?" Martin asked.

" _How_ does someone abduct an armed man?" Sam asked.

" _Without_ him reaching for his firearm?"

"We're working on that," Danny said. "Right now, it looks almost like he was coaxed into it."

"If he was coaxed into it, then was he actually abducted?" Martin asked.

"Or, maybe he didn't get to pull his gun," Vivian said as she walked up. "We should assume that if our victim was armed, then our abductor probably was too. Maybe he didn't pull his gun because he had one in his back."

"But, why wouldn't he fight back?"

"Did the canvass get us anything?" Danny asked.

"Witnesses weren't close enough for details, but they did see two guys talking, and then they got into a black sedan," Elena said.

"What time did the car leave?" Martin asked.

"Did anyone catch the plate?" Danny asked.

"That's where it gets a little strange," Elena said.

"Only there?" Martin asked. "This whole case is a little strange."

"The witnesses say that the black sedan had government plates."

"Wait, _government_ tags?" Danny and Martin said simultaneously.

"Yes," Elena replied. "But, they don't remember anything else about them."

"What time did the car leave?" Martin asked again.

"Let's run the footage over the exit," Jack said. "Focus on any black sedans coming out of the garage, try to get a plate."

"You got it."

* * *

The jacket wasn't helping.

Martin was fighting not to shiver, as he sat at his desk, attempting to work and finding it difficult to concentrate. Part of him wanted to snap out about the air conditioning, but, as he had begun to notice, he seemed to be the only one affected by it.

"Am I the only one who's freezing right now?" he asked the rest of his team as he buried himself further in his jacket.

They seemed to be too preoccupied to notice the question, as they worked their case. Each of them was working on a different piece, but it was Danny that seemed to hit a shocking revelation first, as he burst back into the squad room.

"You guys," he said, a weird combination of sad and worried. His tone of voice got everyone's attention. "Lucy was finally able to clean up an image on our missing person…"

The team watched as Danny tacked a picture up to the whiteboard, one that caused everyone to gasp.

Martin.

Martin stared at his face on the picture from the security camera, shaking his head in disbelief. "No," he said softly. "No, it's not me. I'm not missing."

Martin looked at the team, realizing that they were moving around him, suddenly in a bigger hustle with this case. Beyond their increase in pace, they were talking around him, as if he wasn't even there.

"Guys," Martin said, trying to draw their attention. "Guys, I'm right here."

And yet, no one heard him.

Martin looked around at the team, noticing the fear and concern in their faces. "Guys," he tried again. "Guys, can you hear me? I'm right here. Can't you see me?"

And as the realization set in that they, in fact, couldn't see or hear him, he started to realize that this entire time, they'd never heard him at all. That he hadn't been there at all. He tried to stand from his chair, to reach out to them, but found himself unable to do so. There was something stopping him, something blocking him.

And then came the pain.

It crashed over him like a tsunami on a shore, practically drowning him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Couldn't think any more about anything other than the pain. He choked and sputtered for every breath, fighting to stay alive as the pain and the chill settled deep within him.

"Guys?" he choked out.

* * *

"I'm right here," Martin said, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, he was entirely aware of his surroundings, and the cocoon he was fairly certain he was going to die in.

The car.

 _His_ car.

The seatbelt was tight against his chest, and his arms were pinned by the driver's door and the shifter. The engine was pushed so far in that his legs were pinned. The steering wheel had made friends with his seatbelt, which led to further constriction.

He was trapped.

He couldn't remember what happened, or how he'd gotten here, but one thing was certainly clear: he was going to die here.

"I'm right here," he said again, trying to rouse someone's attention.

He didn't get the response that he'd hoped for. Because he heard nothing. And, he sadly realized, he wasn't going to hear anything.

As he felt the life draining out of him, the last thing he'd ever hear was his own shaky voice muttering, "I'm right here."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: As promised, here's the second half of the story. I still don't own anything. I hope you enjoy the conclusion, and please review. :)

* * *

Just Another Day… Part 2

The tube down his throat was more than he could stand.

He tried to reach up to it, but found his hand unable (or unwilling, he couldn't really be sure) to move. He wanted like hell to get the tube out, though, so he fought to move his hand up to pull it out.

To no avail.

Finally, he opened his eyes, taking in the sites of his hospital room, full of machines and tubes running everywhere (and _in_ everywhere). He glanced down at his arms, noticing the casts and realizing why he wasn't able to move them.

They were too heavy.

He tried to cough out the tube, which set off more alarms than he'd ever heard before, which made the pain in his head hit a high note and become ever present in his reality. And as the staff came running in, he found himself getting mildly sheepish for the sheer amount of people responding to his attempts to dislodge a tube.

"Agent Fitzgerald," a woman dressed in a white coat said. "Sir, you need to settle down. Just relax."

Martin looked over at her and stopped trying to cough.

"My name is Dr. Andrews," she continued as she shined a light into his eyes, causing him to groan and struggle to swing his arms. "I need to ask you some questions. Blink once for yes, twice for no. Do you have any pain?"

Martin nodded instead of blinking.

"In your head?"

Martin nodded again.

"Anywhere else?"

Martin glared.

Dr. Andrews looked at him. "Is that supposed to be a yes?" she asked pointedly.

Martin nodded.

"Okay. Listen, Agent Fitzgerald, we're going to give you something for the pain. I know that your friends have mentioned you've had a bad reaction to narcotic pain relievers before, so we're going to hang some Acetaminophen for you. If it isn't enough, let us know, and we'll figure something else out. In the meantime, I'm going to try taking that tube out of your throat, okay?"

Martin nodded as he closed his eyes again.

"Just relax…"

* * *

When he woke up, he knew he was somewhere else.

The machines were gone, and the view outside the window was completely different. The hallway was quieter, and he could hear his roommate breathing. At least, he _thought_ that was his roommate…

But, truly, it was Danny.

And Danny was snoring.

Martin found himself smiling, and thinking of however many ways he could to scare the crap out of Danny and wake him up. When the nurse came in, he knew he had his answer, as he disconnected a few wires from the EKG machine, causing it to flat line.

Danny jumped awake at the shrill sound the machine made as it failed to capture a heart rhythm. Danny's reaction was enough to send Martin into a short fit of laughter, cut off by the coughing and pain from laughing with seriously injured ribs.

"Are you done having fun now?" the nurse asked with a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good," Martin said as he reattached the wires to the EKG box with the nurse's help.

"You're an ass," Danny told him as he rubbed his hand over his eyes, his wedding ring glinting in the light from the hallway.

Martin simply smirked as the nurse continued her work.

"How's the pain?" she asked.

"Not too bad," Martin replied.

"Anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, then. I'll leave you two alone."

"Thank you."

"Sure thing. Call if you need anything."

"Thank you," Danny said as the nurse walked out. He looked over at Martin. "So, it's good to see that you're doing okay," he said to his injured friend.

"I'm still breathing," Martin replied. "So, that's pretty good."

"That _is_ good."

Martin nodded, exhaling slowly.

"How are you really doing?" Danny asked.

"How long was I out of it?" Martin asked, ignoring Danny's question.

"About 4 days. How are you _really_ doing?"

"I already told you, man. I'm still breathing. I really can't complain."

Danny looked at him.

"Alright, so acetaminophen really doesn't help the pain," Martin admitted. "But, I know anything stronger wouldn't work well for me, so I'm better off being in pain, I guess. What I really want to know is…"

"How did we find you?" Danny asked. At Martin's nod, he said, "your phone pinged off a tower near the crash site. We searched the area and got lucky. You almost didn't make it, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, brother."

"Anytime." Danny shifted in the seat. "You should get some rest. Or, I mean, we could watch the game, and then you can sleep the entire time Jack is here."

"You guys are keeping shifts?" Martin asked.

"Someone ran you off the road," Danny replied. "And, we don't know who that was yet, or what the reason was for it. Do you remember anything from the crash?"

Martin shook his head. "Goes blank after I left the office."

Danny nodded. "That's understandable. But, should you start to remember some things…"

"Yeah, yeah," Martin interrupted. "You all wanna be here."

"Plus, we gotta keep you out of trouble. You've been awake for one day, and you're already setting off the alarms and making people come running."

Martin simply smirked.

* * *

When Jack replaced Danny, Martin shifted in the bed. "You doin' alright?" Jack asked.

"I'll be fine," Martin replied, and _almost_ meant it.

Jack nodded, sitting awkwardly in the visitor's chair.

Martin closed his eyes.

"You tired?"

Martin shook his head. "Headache won't go away," he replied softly. "Among other pains."

"Want me to get the doctor?" Jack asked.

Martin shook his head again. "I'll live."

Jack nodded again, mostly to himself.

"How long was I missing?" Martin asked softly.

"Best guess, about eight hours," Jack replied.

Martin nodded slowly.

Jack didn't say anything else, either.

* * *

Vivian brought him ice cream as Jack slipped through the door. "I figured you could use something good to eat," she told Martin.

"Thanks," he replied softly.

"How's the memory coming?"

He shook his head. "Still missing a lot of pieces," he told her honestly. "The doc says I might not get parts of it back."

"That's true. How's the rest of you?"

"The rest of me… the rest of me is still here."

Vivian nodded.

"I'm sorry," Martin told her.

"For what?" she asked.

"Making you guys have to look for me."

"That's not your fault, you know."

Martin didn't respond beyond shifting his position in bed.

"Eat your ice cream," Vivian instructed him.

Martin did what he was told.

* * *

Martin must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew, Sam was sitting beside him, thumbing through a magazine. "How long was I out for?" he asked.

"About four hours," Sam replied, putting down the magazine to move beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." He shifted in bed, and Sam moved to help him. "I got this," he told her calmly.

"Do you remember being followed out of the office?"

"No, not really. Why?"

"Because we think someone was following you when you left the office."

Martin thought about the hours before the crash, but all that came up was him leaving the office and them looking for him.

"What?" she asked.

"When I was in the car… I had this… I don't know what you'd call it, but you guys were looking for me. But, you didn't know you were looking for me, not at first. We couldn't tell from the surveillance video. But, I'd been abducted from a garage."

" _Were_ you abducted from a garage?" she asked.

"No," Martin replied. "I left the office, went to the garage, and drove out without a problem. But there was a guy, in this… thing I had…"

"Can you describe him to a sketch artist?"

"I can try…"

* * *

Elena was lucky enough to be babysitting when the call came in that they caught the guy who'd run Martin off the road. His name was Ethan McCarthy, and he was involved a case that had gone south, though Martin couldn't remember too many of the details at the moment. He couldn't remember much of anything. The pain in his head continued to compound into an ear-splitting migraine, so Martin conceded and asked the doctor to add something else.

Ibuprofen.

Which, still wasn't helping much, but it was slightly better than acetaminophen alone. And as Elena sat in the visitor's chair, rubbing her pregnant abdomen, Martin realized that he had the best family around him, willing to sit with him through everything.

Well… almost everything.

"Time to get you washed up, Agent Fitzgerald," the nurse's aide said as she made her way into the room.

"I'll see you later," Elena said, standing up and heading out of the room.

"Gee, thanks for your help," Martin said to her retreating form and small smirk.

The End.


End file.
